The Wager
by Cats070911
Summary: The hunt for a criminal turns into a clash of egos. One of them wins the bet, but can the other win their heart?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply. Yes, I know, it has been a while, but I am still around.

* * *

"Can you see him?"

"No." Detective Sergeant Barbara Havers shook her head as she surveyed the crowd. From their position in the grandstand, they could see most of the racegoers milling around the parade ring and the rails. She turned to look at her boss. With his line of vision firmly on the horses, Tommy Lynley was less the senior detective and more the Earl of Asherton. Barbara sighed and shook her head. "He's too big to be a jockey."

Tommy turned to her. His brow creased, and as he titled it slightly a lock of longish hair fell over his left eye. "Sorry?"

Barbara resisted the temptation to push his hair back in place. "You were studying the horses, not looking for Margoyles."

"Uh, no..." He gave her a brief grin. "Maybe. Sorry. There are some fine horses here."

"And a fine diamond thief. There are horse races every week, but only one chance to catch the man audacious enough to steal the Queen's tiara."

"Point noted, Sergeant." Tommy turned away from her and tossed his head in the air. Barbara half-expected him to neigh.

They watched the crowd for another twenty minutes without spotting their target. Barbara knew he was here. The man was a notorious punter, but more importantly, this was a day when many of the ladies dressed up. Jostling crowds was the ideal place for a jewel thief to strike.

Her boss looked at his watch. "The first race starts in ten minutes."

"You sound like you want to place a bet."

He nodded. "I do. But it's hardly appropriate. Bayeux Soldier has the best form coming in, but I think Mysterious Logic might pip him."

"Yeah, What colours does the jockey wear?"

"Purple and brown, I think."

"Eww. Poor horse. No wonder he runs fast. He wants the embarrassment to an end as quickly as possible."

Tommy snorted. "The horse doesn't know. Or care."

"If I were a horse, I'd know. But I wouldn't let anyone ride me."

"I'd never want to ride..." Tommy stopped at stared at her. Barbara realised the unintended second meaning and felt her face flush. "As a horse," he added quickly. "I wouldn't want to ride you if you were a horse. You'd be too unpredictable. Too wild."

Barbara noticed his face redden as their conversation turned more ambiguous. Even so, she was so tempted to ask if he wanted to ride her as a woman. Instead, she looked away.

"You have to look at their breeding, whether they like a hard or soft track, how they have performed against other horses in the field. Some horses spook others. Even the best of them. You know I once saw..."

"Sir, please focus on Margoyles."

"Yes. But I could pick the winner of most races."

"Then you should give up policing and become a professional punter because at the moment you are not a very good detective."

He grunted. "I can multi-task."

"From my observations, not when there is a fine filly around." Tommy glared at her, clearly understanding her meaning but not responding. Barbara wondered if she had pushed the joke too far. "I'm going for that one. The one with the royal blue hat..."

"Cap."

"The one with the royal blue cap and blue stars on his white shirt."

"Silks."

"Whatever."

"Lawless Heart. She has no chance. She's 70:1."

"So for a pound, I'd get 70?"

"For a bet on the nose, yes."

"Sounds perfect. Which one are you betting on?"

He looked confused. "We're on duty. We can't place bets."

"Not real money. I wouldn't put real money on racing animals. Just between us."

"I told you, Mysterious Logic."

"Okay, we should make this interesting. What do I get if I win?"

"Dinner?"

"Hmm, sounds good."

"And if I win?"

Barbara shrugged. "Dunno, but I can't afford your fancy restaurants with their crisp white tablecloths and penguin suited waiters."

"Then you have to accompany me to Derby Day."

"The races?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"Good. And you have to dress up for it, just like all the other women."

Barbara groaned loudly. "Is that necessary?"

The corners of his mouth twitched. "Oh, yes, most definitely. Dress, hat, heels and gloves."

"Gloves?" She gave him a look she hoped would indicate her horror. "No gloves."

Tommy pursed his lips. "No gloves," he agreed after a long silence. "They're about to start. They'll lead them straight past us."

Barbara tried not to listen to the commentary blaring from the loudspeaker situated uncomfortably close above their heads. She cringed at the disparaging way the race-caller referred to Lawless Heart as "one more bad race away from the glue factory". She watched the horses as they passed. A black horse had a subtle sheen across his coat as if oiled. A brown horse wearing blinkers zigzagged as the jockey tried to wrest back control.

"That's Mysterious Logic," Tommy said almost proudly.

The stallion was jet black with an almost perfect line of white running from his forehead down his muzzle. He was muscular and the largest horse by at least a hand. The animal stared around proudly, almost haughtily.

"Yeah, I can see why he appeals to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that. He's your sort of horse."

She ignored Tommy's muttered protest. Her eye caught the constant twitching of the shoulder muscle of a short, slightly stocky-looking, dull-coated horse who looked too small to be racing against the giants. At the rear of the line, it walked along with its head hanging down. Several rude spectators pointed and laughed. The jockey turned away, hiding his face in his blue silks. Barbara knew precisely how Lawless Heart felt. "You can do this Lawless Heart. Don't let him beat you."

The horse looked up. For a long second or two, Barbara and the horse held each other's gaze. The horse was scared. Barbara hoped she had not understood the race caller's taunts. Trying to reassure her she was worthy regardless of the result, she nodded and smiled. The horse lowered her head and then raised it as if nodding.

"Staring at her won't help."

"It will. She just needs to feel appreciated."

"Well if that worked, I'd be a millionaire."

"You are."

Tommy grunted. "You know what I mean. Just watch the race. They're almost set."

Barbara watched the race even though she knew Margoyles was preying on the crowd. It felt disloyal not to watch her horse. After all, she assumed she would be the only one watching. Lawless Heart started slowly and soon fell to the back of the pack. Barbara's hope for dinner was quickly fading. "Come on girl, you can do this. Just dig deep."

"She can't hear you."

"She can," she said firmly, more to annoy Tommy than because she believed the horse had supersonic powers.

"Well, something's working."

Barbara watched as Lawless Heart slowly moved through the field. The race caller seemed as stunned as the other jockeys and horses who now conspired to force her wide. Running in more of a fast lollop than a gallop, the little horse kept pace with the pack. On the turn into the home straight, she was in fifth. Barbara's heart began to thump harder in her chest. She clenched her fists and pumped them up and down as she yelled to urge her on. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her boss stop his cheering and stare at her. She could feel his smile without looking at him. "Come on, you can do this."

With less than 100 metres to run, Bayeux Soldier clipped the heel of the lead horse. Both animals faltered then recovered, but they had lost their rhythm. The third-placed Mysterious Logic shot ahead, and on his shoulder was Lawless Heart. Sweat covered her coat giving her a glow that made her look as majestic as the giant horse beside her as they went stride-for-stride down the straight. Tommy and Barbara glared at each other. The race was no longer just about dinner or a day at the races - this was about pride.

"Go!" Barbara screamed.

Tommy jumped, then yelled, "come on, boy."

"Go, go, go, go, gooooooo!"

With less than ten metres to run both horses were running shoulder to shoulder. The stallion's long neck lifted then stretched out for the line. Barbara's heart fell. Her brave little mare had fallen short.

"Well, that's a surprise," Tommy said as he draped his arm briefly over her shoulder. "That nag of yours gave him a real run for his money."

Barbara swallowed her rage. It was unreasonable to yell at Tommy about a horse race, but anger welled up inside her at his patronising tone. "Yeah, almost had him."

"Why hasn't the result gone up?" Tommy asked.

The crowd took a collective gasp. They looked to the big screen in the mounting yard. A photo of the finish showed that Mysterious Logic had lifted his head too late and Lawless Heart had stuck hers out as she lunged for the line. The mare, although a foot shorter than the stallion had beaten him by a nose. Barbara looked up at her boss who was staring open-mouthed at the screen. "I think dinner at somewhere with crisp white linen tablecloths and waiters in penguin suits befits that win. Don't you?"

Tommy grinned at her. "Assuredly. I know just the place. Tomorrow night?"

Barbara nodded even though she feared she might regret it. "Perfect. Now... Margoyles?"

Tommy sighed. "You look over there. I'll look this way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** sorry for the delay—unexpected real-life dramas.

* * *

Despite his eagerness, pursuing Margoyles had forced them to wait a week. With the thief safely incarcerated awaiting trial, and their reports complete, Tommy could plan their dinner.

"Tonight? About seven-thirty? Penguins and crisp linen?"

Barbara stopped chomping on a limp carrot that Tommy was sure she had left in the staff fridge almost two weeks earlier. "Yeah, sure."

"I booked Albertini's."

She nodded then turned her attention back to her carrot. Tommy had hoped she might be more excited, or at least more animated. They ate together three or four times a week, but he hoped she realised this was special, at least to him.

* * *

Resplendent in dark oak panelling and green leather, walking into Albertini's always reminded Tommy of an old bookshop. Underneath the high notes of starched linen tablecloths and vanilla from the vases of clematis that adorned the deep window ledges, there was an earthy essence of wealth, privilege and exclusivity. It was everything that Barbara hated about 'his world' yet exactly what she had requested.

"Miss Havers is already here, Lord Asherton," Pierre, the maître d' said as if he knew Barbara personally. "I showed her to your table. If you would care to follow me."

Lynley glanced at his watch. He was fifteen minutes early as he had planned, but had not expected Barbara to be waiting. "Certainly. Thank you."

Tommy had requested a table on the mezzanine level. It was quieter and with fewer guests, so would be less intimidating for Barbara. As they climbed the stairs, he saw her sitting on the bench side of a table in the corner casually reading The Times. She looked comfortable and not overawed. He had not wanted her to feel uncomfortable, but she exuded self-confidence and familiarity, almost contempt, for the environment that he found unsettling.

"Miss Havers, Lord Asherton is here."

Barbara looked up and smiled as she folded the paper. "Thank you, Pierre." She carefully placed the paper on the bench beside her.

The man helped Tommy with his chair then poured water into his glass. "When you are ready to order, Margarete will serve you tonight."

"Thank you, Pierre," Tommy said before turning to Barbara, "come here often?"

Barbara shrugged and gave him a sly smile. Tommy gripped his knee under the table to stop his sudden urge to reach out and hold her hand. Dressed in her dark suit, but she was wearing a dark gold, almost brown, a silky shirt that was loose and moved with her instead of her usual white cotton shirt. He could not help but notice her cleavage adorned by a gold necklace.

"You look..." Tommy paused to ensure his voice would not fail him, "beautiful, Barbara."

"Beautiful? Hardly. But thank you. You scrub up okay yourself. Haircut?"

Tommy had visited his barber for a trim and a shave. "You noticed." Tommy ran his hand lightly over his hair. "It was only a light trim."

Barbara nodded. "I noticed."

He dug his nails into his knee in response to the smile she gave him. "Why do I feel I've been played?"

"Played?"

He nodded. "You know exactly what I mean. Pierre clearly knows you, and you were sitting here reading The Times as if you come here every day."

"Maybe I do." Barbara lowered her head and looked at him the same way Mrs Ellacott, Eton's librarian used to look at him when he was too lazy to find his own books. "Do you prefer me as a mouse?"

"A mouse? No."

"You must. You expected me to be intimidated and deferential."

"Not true." Tommy glared at her and brought both his hands out from hiding and placed them palm down on the table. "You asked for penguins and white tablecloths."

"I knew you would choose here."

"Because you asked me to... I would be happy eating anywhere with you."

"Here is fine. I think I will try the fish."

Her attitude puzzled him. Tommy drummed his index finger. "You've been here before?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Twice last month."

"How can you aff...? Why here?"

"How can I afford to eat here? Wouldn't you like to know? I was a guest actually."

Tommy withdrew his hands. "Do I know him?" He caught her slight smile. He had tried not to sound jealous but had failed.

"Why do you assume it was a he?"

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"Dunno? That's not very precise English, m'lord."

"Don't mock me, Barbara. This was supposed to be a lovely intim... dinner because I chose the wrong horse, not a game."

"Was the word you stumbled over intimidating? Yeah, you chose the wrong horse all right."

"No, it was not the word." His eyes narrowed.

"You still think of me as I was, not who I am now. You assumed it would intimidate me, and I think you like that. I think you want me fawning over you."

"No! And you have never, ever fawned over me. That's one thing I love about you. You treat me as a person, not as... him."

"I had the wager with him though, didn't I?"

Tommy nodded then let out air slowly through his nose. "Yes. I was being a tad arrogant."

"Especially not believing that horses... or people... can change with a little love and encouragement."

Tommy put his hands back on the table, palm up hoping that Barbara might take hold of them. Her hands remained in her lap. "I'm sorry."

She nodded. "Judith."

"Sorry?"

"I came here with Judith."

"Why?"

"She invited me."

"Why?" He could not understand why his sister would invite Barbara to dinner.

"To help me understand something."

"May I ask what?"

"You may." He held her gaze but did not repeat the question. She smiled. "She wanted me to believe that I was good enough. A bit like Lawless Heart."

Tommy smiled. That made sense. His sister had been pestering him a lot lately about inviting Barbara home to Howenstowe. "I think she knows."

Now his sergeant frowned and looked uncertain. "Knows what?"

"How I feel about you."

Barbara's cheeks flushed. "I..."

"Good evening, I'm Phillipe. Wine, Sir?"

Without taking his eyes from Barbara, he ordered a Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand's Marlborough region. It would compliment most fish. When the waiter left, he turned back to Barbara. "Sorry, you we're saying..."

She shook her head. "Nothing important."

"You do know how I feel about you?" As Barbara looked down, Tommy could almost see her new confidence fleeing. He reached out and took her hand. "You mean everything to me, Barbara."

Barbara squeezed his hand. "Thanks. I..."

"Good evening. I am Margarete. Are you ready to order?"

"The fish, please," Barbara said without hesitating as she pulled her hand out from his grip.

Tommy turned. A tall, exotic brunette with unblemished Mediterranean features smiled at him. "The same. Thank you."

"Would you like anything else?"

"No, thank you." When the waitress left he turned his attention back to Barbara. "Give me back your hand."

"What?"

He tried his softest smile. "Please. I liked holding your hand."

"Why?"

Despite her question, she placed her hands tentatively back on the table. Tommy took both of them and caressed the back of them with his thumbs hoping to relax her. "I like feeling connected to you."

"Oh."

"It calms my soul."

"You don't think that sounds a little cliched?"

"It might, but it's true. It's as if my soul is a wolf. Most of the time it prowls restlessly and howls at the least sign of danger. When I'm with you, it sleeps peacefully by the fire."

Barbara shook her head. "No, it doesn't. It fights with my... I think I am more of a shark, endlessly awake roaming the oceans, hated by everyone but providing a necessary service."

Tommy grinned then laughed softly. "My voracious shark. Although I rather like the sound of you as a she-wolf."

"Why?"

"Wolves can't make love to sharks."

"What?" Barbara tugged her hands from his.

"Your wine, Sir."

Tommy took a second to register that Phillipe had returned. He nodded at the bottle then never took his eyes from Barbara as the waist poured the wine. Tommy took a sip. It had no taste. His mind focussed elsewhere. "Perfect, thank you."

It took an age for the man to pour the wine into their glasses. Normally, he would appreciate the show. Tonight he just wanted to be alone with Barbara. He gave the waiter a tight smile when he finished.

Barbara lifted her glass. "Cheers."

"To wolves and sharks."

Her eyebrows shot up and her face coloured slightly. "To sharks and wolves." They clinked glasses. "A shark would easily kill a wolf in the water but a wolf would have trouble eating a shark on land."

Tommy sipped his wine. "Because sharks won't venture onto land?"

"No, because sharks have a rough hard skin."

Tommy tried to catch her gaze eyes as she darted her eyes around to avoid him. "You are saying the armour of a shark is too much for a determined wolf?"

"No, you just have to know their soft spots."

Tommy grinned. "So a wolf could make love to a shark if he found their weak spot?"

Barbara looked up. "No, he could devour the shark. Kill it."

"I won't."

"Find the weak spot or destroy me?"

"We already know each other's weak spots. And we have survived this far without destroying each other."

"That could easily change if..." She shrugged as if he should understand.

"That's not how I see it."

Barbara nodded. "So, what do you have in mind?"

"Making our first official date. Then moving into a romantic relationship."

"No."

His heart fell. "No? I thought you the way I do."

"I do, you make it sound so clinical."

He grinned at her. "I'm sorry. But...?"

"Besides, if it's our first date then... you know."

He frowned. "I pay?"

Barbara grunted. "No, but it's not polite to... on a first date."

Tommy's grin turned into a full smile. "Kiss?"

Barbara's face darkened but her smile lit it up. "Yeah, and more."

"What about a little wager?"

"On what?"

"I wager we finish our meals in record time."

"Confident sod."

Tommy stroked her hand. "When I kiss you tonight, and I will kiss you tonight, I'm also betting you will change your first date rule."

"Poncy confident sod. How is that a fair wager? All I have to do is say no."

He nodded. "I know. My bet is that your stubbornness won't overrule your desire."

"Arrogant, poncy confident sod. So what do I win if it does?"

"A wolf sitting on your doorstep all night howling to be let in."

"Thomas Lynley!" She shook her head and grinned broadly.

Tommy saw Margarete approach out of the corner of his eye. "Let's eat, but this wolf doesn't want dessert. At least not here."

Barbara squeezed his hand. "I would never let a wolf sit out in the cold without dessert."

He grinned at her. "I'm counting on that."


End file.
